


holding the atmosphere

by nihilistending



Series: Stridercest Week 2018 [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dirk is a wee bitty baby in this fic., Just kidding he's a teenager but I never said how old., Pre-Relationship, Snow Day, This is probably going to be the most pure fic I do for Stridercest Week., Winter Wonderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13381914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilistending/pseuds/nihilistending
Summary: You may have gone a little overboard, but it is his first time out in the snow. And he looks hilarious.OR, Dave takes Dirk out on his first snow day mid-winter in Rainbow Falls, New York.





	holding the atmosphere

“I have no mobility whatsoever,” Dirk announces from the foyer, arms comically extended out from his body and eyes wide between his scarf and his hat- no other part of his face is visible. You may have gone a little overboard, but it  _ is _ his first time out in the snow. And he looks  _ hilarious. _

“It’s better than the alternative, bro, trust me. I  _ do not  _ miss winters in New York- swear to God I almost lost all my toes when I was your age-” Dirk’s already rolling his eyes, waddling stiffly toward the door once you’re done lacing up your boots. “My nipples still haven’t fully recovered.”

“I’ll bet,” he humors, trying to get a grip on the door-knob through his puffy mitt only to quit halfway through and start pawing at the heavy duty velcro holding his gloves on.  _ “Man,” _ he growls in substitution- you’ll bet- for swearing. He’s at that age though where he thinks your hearing is worse than it is and he still  _ cares _ enough to mutter his string of pithy curses.

You watch for a few seconds before opening the door for him, bending down to pick up each mitt he tosses too forcefully to the ground. A look is exchanged between you before he mumbles a terse apology; frustration lingering, but not directed at you.

“I’ll hold on to these for when your fingers start going numb,” you let him know, aborting your instinctive motion to ruffle up his hair. He doesn’t like it too much anymore; now that he’s started paying more attention to how he looks. 

“Thanks,” he manages, his boots crunching tentatively over the snow as he steps out to take his first real look at  _ snow, _ inches stuck on the grounds around the Rainbow Falls estate. You can read his awe through his body language as he takes it all in, head tilted up to free his mouth from the confines of his scarf. His breathing labors, gusting out foggy clouds as he fills his lungs with the harsh chill. 

“Kinda cool, huh?” You tuck his gloves under your arm, steadying him with a hand on his back as he looks over the scene. All the anger of his age seeps out of him as he nods, turning his head back to look up at you.

“Yeah,” Dirk says with a tiny smile- just at the corner of his mouth and barely enough to give any normal person a read on him, but all there and as good as a grin. “It’s pretty cool. Dunno if it’s worth waking up before noon, buuut…”

“Duude, don’t give me that. We both know you were already up.” Deciding that you didn’t roll out of the house at nine-thirty in the morning just to hang out by the front door, you lead the way across the snow-covered yard toward the tree-line. 

“Yeah,” Dirk agrees, sounding shockingly chipper as he hustles after you. You can hear his breathing behind you, the way he huffs with the effort of walking while weighed down by his impressive winter ensemble. “I was. You’re usually not up for a few more hours, though,” he trots a little faster to catch up to you, righting his knit hat on his head when it comes askew. You’ve got the brief impulse to reach out for his hand, but that stopped being acceptable for him years ago. Still feels like yesterday. “-And y’came t’bed kinda late.”

_ Shit, _ you almost spit out on impulse, but manage to cut it back. “Did I wake you up?”

“Sorta,” he confirms distractedly as some birds up in the trees catch his eye. He’s probably working out their migration patterns- or lack thereof- based on feathers and behaviours or what side of the branch they decide to shit off of, or something. He’s been more into nature lately, one of those snap obsessions that come out of nowhere. “I was sorta dozin’ off.”

“What?” You shake yourself out of your moment of distraction. 

“Last night. I was sorta in’n‘out of sleep when y’came in.” Dirk’s attention comes back to you and he looks worried. “Y’okay?”

“Yeah, just zoned out a little.”

Dirk mumbles in response, something faintly agreeable and not particularly provoking, and the two of you trek along in silence. After about a minute you come along a proper trail that’s mostly obscured by snow. One big landmark- which you’ll remember, covered in snow or otherwise, for the rest of your life- marks the edge of the path where it forks. “I lost five of my baby teeth at once on that sucker,” you tell him, “and then cracked one of the new ones on it two years later.”

“Mom let y’out here by yourself when y’were that young?” Bless his heart, little city-grown boy.

“Yeah, it was that  _ kids go out and play in the woods _ kinda day’n’age.”

Dirk looks pretty unimpressed by that. Probably because he spends most of his time indoors tinkering. If not due to preference, due to a combination of living in the city and having terrible allergies. If you didn’t know he’d get pneumonia or some other scary respiratory infection every month, you’d think he might do a lot better up here in New York. He gets sick enough as it is in Texas, though.

“I guess that explains why your teeth are all f- screwed up,” Dirk quips, dusting some snow off the rock and peering at it like he might see traces of your blood on it.

“Yeah, okay. By the way, try not to let your braces freeze to your lip.” 

Bright orange eyes turn big and round under Dirk’s styled bangs and his thin lips purse as his tongue pushes forward to lick over his braces. You smile when Dirk ducks his head, wrapping your arm around his shoulders to tug him along. “I’m kidding, bro, you’ll be fine. C’mon. We’ve still got some walking to do.” Dirk flashes you a brief little glare before following your lead down the left branch of the path. 

The path slopes up a long but gradual incline, weaving through the woods up to the ridge behind the estate. “It’s so hilly,” Dirk chuffs unhappily behind you when the path grows a little steeper. 

“We’re a long way from Texas,” you reply, stressing the words into a deep southern drawl. Dirk snickers, labored with the effort of climbing and the cold stressing his lungs. 

At the top of the ridge the two of you can see the estate and the streams that flow around it. The trees are more sparse here, allowing the two of you to more easily see the sun softly lighting the sky. “Pretty cool, huh?” you prompt, dragging your eyes from the sun over the frosted trees to look down at Dirk- jaw dropped and eyes wide on the horizon.

“Pretty cool…” he mumbles numbly in agreement, nodding. His gaze only breaks away from the sky at the sound of snow crunching under tinier feet. Dirk looks first to you before turning back to look at the treeline where you’d just come from, a pair of foxes watching you right back. 

“Oh…” Dirk gasps, both of the foxes tipping their head at the sound before they leap through the snow, one after the other, and dash across the clearing. You and Dirk stare after them as they dash into the trees and vanish from sight. “Wow…”

“... Merry Christmas,” you say once you remember how to speak, looking down to your little brother. “And, uh, Happy Birthday, Happy-”

“Happy New Year,” Dirk predicts, rolling his eyes but smiling all the same. He crouches down, planting his knees awkwardly in the snow and starting to pack the crystals between his hands.

“Yeah. Happy New Year. Are we making snowmen now?”

“No,” Dirk quips plainly as he heaves up a massive snowball and shoves it right into the crotch of your pants.


End file.
